


Of Devils and Men

by Yumikire



Series: Of Devils and Men [1]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Devil May Cry
Genre: Dante's jacket, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, M/M, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:13:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25658761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yumikire/pseuds/Yumikire
Summary: A run down Leon Kennedy ends up at the one place he knows he will always be safe.
Relationships: Dante (Devil May Cry) & Leon S. Kennedy, Dante (Devil May Cry)/Leon S. Kennedy
Series: Of Devils and Men [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1860424
Comments: 3
Kudos: 71





	Of Devils and Men

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. This is going to be where I post my Dante/Leon plot bunnies. I hope you enjoy them, even if they aren't the greatest. I've had these saved on my google drive for awhile so I figured I'd start getting them out there. Please let me know if you like them.

Leon hadn’t meant to end up here. His mind completely shut off from everything in an exhausted haze of one too many nights without sleep. Without a safe place to crash in the middle of another zombie infested town. His sore and battered body running on basic motor function alone. So when he reached a familiar set of stairs and battered wood doors that were not his own, he blinked owishly in surprise. The usually bright neon sign above the door was white, turned off no doubt due to the earliness of the day, well early by Dante standards. That or Dante didn’t pay the electric bill again. For most people 10am was a normal time to be up and about, for demon hunters on a nocturnal schedule though, way too early. 

The blonde man let out a huff, rubbing a hand over his face and eyes. He shouldn’t be here. Dante was sleeping anyway, and in no shape to deal with an exhausted government agent. Hell he’d probably give him shit for getting so beat up in the first place and send him out the door himself. He should just walk to his own damn apartment and sleep in his own damn bed, grimacing when he looked at his blood covered hands, and take a shower or ten. 

Still, even though he tried to convince himself that it was the six block walk and four flights of stairs he’d have to take to his place that made him want to crash here for a while, it wasn’t the main reason. It was the screams he heard every time he closed his eyes. It was knowing that once he got home, every sound of footsteps above his head, or the low muffled voice from the TV one room over, sounding a bit too much like some poor infected soul, would have him twitchy and on high alert in seconds. No, he wasn’t going to be getting any sleep there. Maybe not for a while. 

This sort of thing had happened to him before, too many times. The lack of sleep coupled with a war zone surrounded by hordes of infected undead took their toll every time. Now his brain couldn’t understand that he was safe again, too trapped in fight or flight mode to comprehend anything else. Eventually he’d shut down, but until he did it wasn’t going to be pretty. 

He and Dante hadn’t known each other very long. They had run into each other during one of his ops for the government. There had been some suspicious activity happening in Capulet City, possibly a new type of virus causing a whole new set of monsters to appear. While there had been a small outbreak happening in the city, it turned out that the new monsters were actually demons- some were even experimented on by Umbrella to gain stronger abilities thanks to the viruses. He’d gotten trapped into a corner, his weapons not doing nearly as much damage as they should have been, when a flash of red passed overhead and a white haired man with a broad sword sliced through them all like paper. 

When the man-monster-infected being turned to face him, Leon didn’t hesitate shooting three quick rounds into its forehead. 

The head snapped back, but the body didn’t fall; rather it seemed to freeze mid tilt, hovering just this side of collapse. Leon felt a shiver run down his spine keeping his gun trained on the red clad figure before him barely even daring to breathe. With a shudder and a hiss the body moved righting itself before tipping its head forward. Leon caught the glint of something silver falling into its palm. His bullets. That should have been lodged in his skull. What the hell was this guy?

“Now here I am trying to help you,” the humanoid figure drawled casually “And you show your thanks by shooting me?”

He was sorely tempted to fire another round into the things forehead, but he refrained and instead shot a question of his own.

“And what are you? You’re definitely not human.”

“The name’s Dante. I’m a demon hunter for hire, though this job I’m doing for kicks. These guys totally destroyed the outside of my shop a few blocks back.” 

Leon blinked, completely unbelieving, “A demon hunter? That must be a high paying job. Is the white hair part of your whole gimmick then too?”

“Ha, well it would be if my loan shark didn’t take 90% of my paychecks.” Said the man, throwing his ridiculously large sword over his shoulder and then with a wink he added. 

“And don’t mock the hair, it’s 100% natural. Though if you don’t believe me I could show you the drapes as well.” 

After that, the government had Leon move to Capulet city to keep an eye on the so-called ‘Devil Hunter’ and the strange new infected which he referred to constantly as demons. It wasn’t until a run in with a creature named Morris, Dante saving him despite the fact Leon had been nothing more than an annoying tail for a few months, that Leon finally believed the man’s claim about his demon heritage and not that he was some kind of new type of intelligent BOW. 

After that he and Dante became closer. Something closer to friendly than they had before when he was just an Agent and Dante just a suspicious and dangerous POI to keep an eye on. 

Now in his brain Dante was safe. Dante was a devil that could take bullets, survive a sword being stabbed through him, and was crazy strong to boot. Leon had yet to see anyone survive an attack on the white haired man or his shop. If there was any reason his tired mind brought him here, it was probably that. He knew he could rest here without worry, that no harm - zombie or otherwise- would reach him once he passed through those doors. 

A quick turn of the handle revealed the front door wasn’t even locked and Leon couldn’t repress the snort that escaped. The man had no self preservation whatsoever, or maybe it was more along the lines of overconfidence. 

Stepping inside and shutting the door- making sure to turn the deadbolt- he was greeted by an empty office and a few slivers of daylight slipping in through the closed blinds. Maybe Dante was still out on a job.

“Hello?” He called out curiously. No answer came. Walking over to the stairs he looked up to see Dante’s bedroom door mostly shut, but the sound of snoring was sneaking in through the opening. Dead to the world then.  
Letting out a tired sigh, he eyed the old worn leather couch. No way he was going to walk up all the stairs just to wake up Dante and let him know he was here. The man himself had said multiple occasions he was welcome anytime, so long as he didn’t complain about the state of his place. Walking over, he slowly lowered his sore and stiff body onto the surprisingly comfortable piece of furniture. He managed to muster just enough energy to take off his boots and set them neatly off to the side and remove the belt containing his guns and ammo setting them on the table in front of him. Then he made himself horizontal on the couch, head molding comfortably, the armrest acting as the perfect pillow. Other than Dante’s snoring the house was completely still and silent and it seemed like mere moments later that he found himself sinking into sleep.  
\----  
Leon woke up in a daze. There was no sense of immediate danger, but something had changed in his surroundings enough to wake him. His profession made him a light sleeper by nature and it had saved his life on more than a few occasions. A glance at his watch and some quick math told him he had been asleep for a couple hours, and without being disturbed by nightmares. Rolling onto his side to make sure his guns were still on the table- they were- he realized that he now had a very familiar red coat covering his form. Pulling it higher up his shoulders he buried his nose in it, inhaling the smell of gun-smoke, blood, leather, and a spice that was all Dante. It was such a strangely calming scent all things considered. A look into the cracked mirror on the wall gave Leon a perfect view of Dante’s now occupied desk, the man in question sleeping shirtless in his chair. Understanding dawning that Dante’s presence as well as the jacket being placed on him was probably what woke him up, he started to relax once more, body practically melting into the couch in contentment. Sleep coming back to him easily.  
\----  
Dante watched from mostly shut eyes as Leon woke, blearily taking in his surroundings. He had thought he’d been pretty stealthy when he had come down the stairs, avoiding the creaking floorboards and repressing his presence to almost nothing, before laying his jacket on the sleeping agent. Still there was a reason Leon was still alive after all the years he spent fighting in war zones. Dante suspected the jacket and its weight was the tipping point. He couldn’t repress the feeling of possessive pride as he watched Leon snuggle further into his coat and fall back to sleep. The idea that Dante’s very presence made him comfortable and content enough to rest was a novel thing to him, and something he enjoyed shamelessly. People rarely gave him the time of day, let alone tolerated his presence. He was an oddity and that terrified most people. That or the broad sword.  
Shaking his head he stretched his arms above his head before settling down deeper into his chair, not quite asleep, wanting to keep an eye out for any trouble that tended to frequent his shop, but not fully awake either. It was the most content he could remember being in a long while.


End file.
